


we could be in a lot of trouble

by outranks



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Jealousy, Love Potion/Spell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-05 16:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outranks/pseuds/outranks
Summary: The problem starts when Rook decides to blanket all of Hope County with a potential Bliss neutralizer without waiting to find out if there are any side effects.Which there are.Of course there are.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a short fic

The problem starts when Dr. Charles Lindsey comes up with a formula that will absolutely, guaranteed, without a shadow of a doubt neutralize the Bliss. 

It doesn’t. 

And Rook ends up spilling half of it down his shirt where it drips under the waistband of his jeans and makes him decidedly uncomfortable for the hour or so it takes to get another set of clothes. Then Dr. Charles Lindsey calls him about a _better_ formula that will work this time, he swears.

It does.

Rook sprays it on a small group of Bliss flowers and is genuinely surprised when he gets closer and the world stays _normal_. No sparkles or fireworks or urges to jump off the hulking statue of The Father to see if he can fly. But there are a lot of flowers and Rook is only one man. So he gets a crop duster, does his best not to crash it, and blankets the entire Henbane region, and most of the valley and the mountains with enough of the neutralizer to really fuck over the Seeds.

So maybe the problem _really_ starts with _Rook_ following through with the first idea that came into his head instead of waiting to find out if there were any side effects. 

Which there are.

Of course there are.

Things start to get weird. Like, excessively weird, in a way that’s unusual for even Hope fucking County. The kind of weird where a wild-haired, crazy-eyed, bearded Peggie drags Rook in by the lapels of his cool new leather jacket that he stole from a dead guy, and licks at his mouth in an uncomfortable facsimile of a kiss. It’s the very specific kind of weird that not only is Rook unable to deal with, he flat out refuses to try. 

His escape plan involves leaving the jacket behind which honestly ruins his day worse than the wet kiss from an unwashed Peggie.

And maybe Rook could account for the Peggie’s behaviour because of how he’s a fucking Peggie and all of them are some kind of crazy or brainwashed or high as a kite on Bliss, but it happens again. This time with a relatively sane couple members of the resistance. And Rook is actually into the idea at first, all soft breasts and sweet mouth at his front, and hard lines and dragging teeth behind him, but it turns from an interesting if sudden moment of fun in the woods, to a fight over his affections. Which he has none. He barely knows them except for an occasional hello in passing.

So that’s not great. Rook doesn’t know what to do about it either since his usual plans almost exclusively involve explosives or a bear. Sometimes both and also a cougar. He can maybe fix the thing with the Peggie like that, but he’s pretty sure he’d get in trouble for sending a bear after anyone from the resistance. 

He gets about halfway to Fall’s End when a car driving by makes a sharp swerve into a ditch and the driver comes limping out toward him. Not a Peggie but looking no less crazy. “I have to have you,” he says. “Please, I must have you. Please. No one else can. _Please_. No one else.”

“Uh, no, I’m good, thanks,” Rook says, reconsidering his earlier plan of explosives. 

“I want all of you. Please, I need to have you.” 

The guy is clearly injured from driving his fucking car off the road and it’s still technically Rook’s job to take care of things like that. So he knocks the man out, drags him to the nearest ATV, and drives them both the rest of the way to Fall’s End. 

Things don’t really get worse from there, but they certainly don’t get any better. 

Mary May isn’t usually so affectionate and Jerome has never once shown the inclination to proposition anyone before. Especially not inside the church by means of listing all the things he can do _to_ Rook if he’s just allowed. If Rook will let him.

Rook will the fuck not.

So clearly this is a _thing_ that’s happening now. Something all tied up and _about_ Rook like he’s a prize to be won. And fucked. Or lusted after, maybe is more accurate. The guy in the truck just wanted to keep him which is somehow uncomfortably weirder than just wanting to bend him over and show him a good time. Like what Mary May had offered. 

Rook gets the hell out of Fall’s End after that, needing to put some real distance between himself and other people. It’s one thing for a Peggie to kiss him, another thing for random people to proposition him, but something else entirely for his friends to do it. Because he’s pretty sure they weren’t interested a day ago. 

“Deputy, do you want to tell me _why_ two of my guards got into a fight over you?” John’s voice is a tight control of barely suppressed anger that crackles in the radio.

“Nope.” Rook will happily tell John not a damn thing. Even if he did have an answer as to why he was suddenly the hottest thing in Hope County. 

There’s a click of the radio on and off, repeating, like John is trying to wring Rook’s neck through the plastic. “If you have done something—“ it clicks on and off, snaps of clenched teeth and frustration in the static.

“Done a lot of things,” Rook says because there is only so long he can sit by and listen to John be wrathful in his direction. “Set things on fire, killed things, found some fireworks I’m still deciding what to do with. Fair warning and all.” Current idea involves finding out when John is asleep and setting them off on his roof.

“You—“ The radio makes a sad creaking noise and when John speaks again his voice is overlaid with a grate of broken metal. “You are testing me. I will not… fall into sin over you.”

“Thanks?” Not that Rook is intentionally doing anything test related to John. Mostly he just prefers to stay in the valley due to its low Judge and Bliss content. And maybe because none of the other Seeds are as easily taunted as John. All that wrath and madness makes for a great backdrop to Rook’s explosions. 

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I don’t know,” Rook replies, getting comfortable. “I feel pretty flattered here, if I’m being honest with you.”

There’s a creaking noise, a bite of John’s voice, and then a pop! as all the sound cuts off from John’s end of the line. That should give Rook forty minutes, maybe an hour of peace. He uses the time to scrub his skin of any possible trace of the Bliss neutralizer. He’s hopeful, but not optimistic, that the problem will be solved that easily. 

Of course there’s no time to test this theory when he’s met by two Peggies just standing outside the bathroom of Rook’s borrowed house, waiting for him. 

“Can I at least get dressed first?”

Both Peggies have cloth wrapped over their nose and mouth like Rook is some kind of contagious. The taller of the two looks over to where Rook’s clothes are, then back to Rook raising and lowering his rifle. The shorter one sways forward, reaching a hand out to touch him, then violently jerks his hand back down and swats at his friend.

“You spread sin,” the taller one spits.

“Hey, you’re the one who— _ow_. Fuck.” They didn’t even shoot him with a Bliss bullet. The shorter Peggie just fucking _stabbed him_ with a needle full of the Bliss like an asshole—

Rook wakes up somewhere dark. He can hear shouting. A lot of shouting, and then two quick gunshots, a stern tone biting out words, and then heavy footsteps on the stairs. The room is flooded with light revealing John Seed and an expensively decorated bedroom.

“Is this your bedroom? You brought me _here?_ ” Of all the places Rook expected to end up this one wasn’t at the top of his list. 

John flips a light on and Rook would honestly be impressed with how nice the place looks if it belonged to almost anyone else. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you are?”

“I want to say none?”

“First,” John continues like Rook hadn’t spoken. “One of the men I sent after you tried to… express his lust for you.“

“What the _fuck_.”

“So the man I sent with _him_ corrected the problem.”

“Let me guess, he killed him and left him on the side of the road as an example.”

John’s jaw clenches tight. “Must you interrupt me.”

“Sorry,” Rook shrugs. “Thought we were having a conversation.”

“We’re not.”

Rook waves his hands in his best so continue gesture with both wrists tied together. “But did he—“

“Yes, the man was killed and left as an example of sin to the faithful.”

They silently stare at each other like John expects him to have more commentary, but Rook just nods. He really can’t work up the sympathy for a dead Peggie.

Eventually John does continue. “Secondly, one of my guards tried to _pay me_ to have you.” He’s clearly offended by that, but Rook would bet money it’s not for the same reason Rook is. “They refused to understand that some things can’t be bought.” Which likely isn’t a compliment, but Rook is going to take it as one. That also explains the shouting and the gunshots, unless that’s an everyday occurrence at John Seed’s ranch. It might actually be. “And all of _this_ because you did something to the Bliss.”

“I did not,” Rook lies.

John pulls a face that is flatly unconvinced. “You were _seen_.”

Which is fair. “That’s fair.”

“Why did you think that was a good idea?”

Rook opens his mouth to answer, then closes it to think. Did he ever consider it a good idea or was it just something he was told to do. “The lying or—“

“ _The Bliss_.” There’s a vein in John’s forehead that looks ready to burst. That can’t be healthy. 

“Why did I want to neutralize your mind controlling, hallucinogenic flowers? Well gosh, John, I simply have no idea.” As fun as John is to torment, Rook is starting to get annoyed. Why is he being punished for trying to do something about the cult’s bullshit? 

“Is this fun for you?”

Rook sighs frustration. “It’s really not.” There had been a moment, just a single moment in Fall’s End, before he realised it was the Bliss talking, that he thought he was going to get something nice. Something just for him to keep safe in his heart. Being an oftentimes one man army takes its toll after a while. “Are the restraints necessary?”

John’s arms fold over his chest. “I’m still deciding.”

Rook groans, tipping his head against the back of the chair. “Can you stop being an asshole for once? I’m not planning to go anywhere,” he says honestly. “You aren’t aggressively trying to fuck me so you’re kind of my best bet right now.” Which really says a lot about the kind of day Rook is having. John Seed should never be anyone's safer option. 

“You are endlessly frustrating,” John says through steel clenched teeth. “I brought you here to help you. I have only _ever_ tried to help you.”

“You tried to _drown me_.”

“That—“ John exhales, fists clenching and then slowly releasing on another deep breath. “That was wrong of me, I apologise. I shouldn’t have… projected my own sins onto you.”

Rook was not expecting that and it kind of leaves him at a loss. Is this something he’s supposed to forgive John for? Because Rook only has the one experience with someone trying to drown him, but he really hated it more than most other attempts on his life. Not as bad as having to dodge a grenade but still in the top three worst ways he’s almost been killed. Being shot at from a plane while taking a leak in some bushes remains the worst for the foreseeable future.

“So, the restraints?”

John sighs and pulls a knife from his pocket. “You promise you won’t try anything?”

“What am I going to do? If you haven’t noticed I’m naked, I have no weapons, and you just shot one of your guards for trying to buy me. I don’t even know what that _means_.”

John doesn’t move, still several feet away holding up the knife.

“Fuck, yes, I promise. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” John mutters flatly, sliding the knife right between Rook’s wrists and pulling up with a practised ease. Definitely not his first time with a bound captive, but a little surprising that he may have released someone before.

Rook rubs at his wrists where they’ve chafed under the coarse rope. “Well, thanks,” he says. Somehow it was less awkward when he was still tied up. Now he’s just a naked guy in his enemy’s bedroom, hiding from other, dirtier enemies. “So how are you not affected? I’d heard that you Seeds are immune to the Bliss, but I figured—“ he shrugs.

“We’re not _immune_ ,” John says, pulling open a drawer and tossing a pair of sweatpants at Rook’s lap. “We’re resistant.”

“So you’re feeling the same thing as everyone else?” That’s a little concerning. Rook isn’t sure John is the best case for controlling any urges, specifically toward him. He slides the sweatpants on and carefully steps back, mapping out the exits. Windows, door, bathroom… no great options here.

“I— I’m not going to do anything, deputy,” John says. “Believe me, my only interest in you right now is making you fix what you’ve done.” 

And that is both a relief and a problem because Rook hasn’t a single idea on what to do. His one plan involved washing off the formula that got on his skin a hoping for the best. Clearly that plan failed on several unfortunate levels. “Well good luck with that,” he says. “But I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“What do you mean—“

“I mean it wasn’t my invention. I’m just the…” Rook waves his hand trying to come up with the right descriptor. “Middle man.”

“Of course,” John mutters with that same implication of _endlessly frustrating_. “Come on, you can’t stay in here all day.”

Maybe not, but Rook is hesitant to leave the relative safety of John’s bedroom for the unknown quantity of Peggies affected by the modified Bliss. 

John gets an entire two steps out of the room before he notices that Rook isn’t following. “Anyone who has shown interest in you has been taken to the bunker,” he says. “Currently only a handful remain, but I can’t say I’m too concerned. Your precious Resistance relies too heavily on you to be of any real threat.”

It’s true, but he doesn’t have to say it. Rook is always running around doing everyone’s errands. Destroy this, kill that. He’s good at it, at least. “You’ve been busy.”

“I’ve had to be.” John leads him into a smaller bedroom, flipping the light on and gesturing at the bed. “You can stay here while we clean up your mess.”

“I’d argue that half of it is _your_ mess. _You_ spread the Bliss everywhere, I only tried to stop it.” The bedroom is just as expensively decorated as John’s is, though without the personal touches. “Stay here?”

“Whatever you’ve done has become _about you_ and I can keep you safe here while we figure out how to undo it,” John says. “Unless you want to leave and see what happens with your friends under Bliss control when they get near you.”

“No,” Rook says. That isn’t anything he wants to see, especially knowing he’ll never be able to _unsee_ it. He doesn’t want to put them through that either. Seeing it happen with Mary May and Pastor Jerome was already more than bad enough. He can’t imagine what it’s going to be like from the other side when they come down. “No. Thank you for your… hospitality.” Rook never wanted to rely on John for anything, but the Bliss really does have a way of turning everything upside down. 

“You’re welcome.” There’s a pause as John looks around the room possibly searching for anything Rook will be able to use as a weapon. A lot of it, honestly, especially if he wanted to get creative. “Don’t go outside.” 

Rook is left alone in John Seed’s fucking guest bedroom with no idea what to do with himself. No television, no radio, and the only books are either cult related or old legal textbooks that Rook has equally no interest in. “Fuck,” he says, grabbing the cult bible and throwing himself onto the bed with its ridiculously high thread count sheets.

*

Turns out that the Book of Joseph is equal parts a depressing insight into the Seeds’ life and a chilling reminder of the sheer depths of their shared delusions. 

Rook shuts the book and closes his eyes, dropping it beside him on the bed with a sigh. Too bad there were no clear instructions on how to stop the Seeds from destroying Hope County more than they already have. He gets up, noticing for the first time how dark it’s gotten outside and how hungry he is. The last time he ate was before he got the crop duster to blanket the Bliss in mistakes. Sort of an _oh God one flying lesson isn’t enough_ meal. 

The layout of the ranch is a fucking mystery. How many bedrooms, bathrooms, and closets does one man need? Do all of the Seed’s live here when they’re not out doing their cult business? Rook has no idea where Joseph even spends most of his time; he’s always conveniently wherever Rook happens to be. 

There are voices coming from further in the house that halt his steps. Rook is not prepared to deal with another lustful Peggie, but the closer he gets the more he recognises who's speaking. 

“You really fucked it up this time, huh,” Jacob says when Rook joins them in the living room. He has some kind of sandwich that looks grilled and smells delicious.

Rook’s stomach makes a loudly embarrassing noise. 

Joseph stands up, pointing to the chair he’s been sitting in. “Please sit,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen. 

Rook sits, idly noticing how everyone else is fully dressed and he’s only in the sweats John gave him. Well, Joseph isn’t wearing a shirt so that’s a little better. “I think the solution to this problem is to destroy the Bliss,” he tells them in case anyone was unclear on his position regarding the Bliss or the cult or most problems.

“You didn’t do anything to the Bliss,” Faith says. 

“What?” Rook distinctly remembers standing in some not at all hallucinogenic Bliss flowers.

“Couldn’t even get that right,” Jacob says and John snorts, trying to cover it when Joseph comes back into the room carrying a plate that he hands to Rook.

“Jacob,” Joseph chides softly, taking a seat on the sofa between John and Faith. “We have reason to believe that what you did wasn’t to the flowers, but the people. The Bliss is unchanged.”

“It can’t help the people who need it most,” Faith adds looking the most unhappy that Rook has ever seen her. 

Rook takes a bite of his sandwich and chews thoughtfully. “So instead of making them mindless drones it just makes them horny?”

“Not exactly.” Jacob shifts, pulling a radio from his belt, clicking it on and flipping through the channels. All of them resistance, all of them about Rook.

Never once has anyone tried to look for him when he was only missing a few hours. There have been long stretches of days, a few times _weeks_ where no one has asked on his whereabouts. That’s fine, he’s used to it. But the fact that he was in Fall’s End only this morning and now he’s search and rescue topic number one is concerning. 

“And it isn’t only lust they’re feeling,” Joseph says.

“The ones I sent to the bunker have become violent at being denied you,” John says. 

“My angels are unaffected,” Faith says, curling her legs up onto the sofa. “They may be the only ones in the Henbane who are.”

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Rook was trying to fix things, not make everything worse. The Bliss was at least avoidable to some degree, especially in the valley and the mountains, but he took that away. He took away that option, even if it was a mistake. “I was trying to help…”

“We are all trying to help, Rook,” Joseph says. “Even when things do not go as planned, we will still do our best to help as many as we can.” 

“That’s…” Rook is about to agree with Joseph Seed and he’s not sure if he’s prepared for it. “Yeah, you’re right. Just… tell me what I need to do to fix this.”

“Begin by telling us how you did this,” Joseph says.

Rook chews unhappily at the last bits of his sandwich, putting his thoughts in order. “Dr. Charles Lindsey, the veterinarian, has been studying the Bliss and he thought he came up with a solution to neutralize it.”

Faith makes a curious sound and leans forward. “I know him,” she says. “I didn’t know he was doing _that_.”

“I think it was a recent idea?” Rook shrugs. It’s not really a habit of his to keep up with what the rest of The Resistance are doing in case they try to give him more work. There’s no reason they can’t find someone else to do their dirty work, but they don’t and Rook has a hard time saying no to anyone. They’re always so hopeful that he’ll somehow fix all of their problems. Which, until recently, he has been. 

“Anyway,” he continues, “I sprayed the formula on some Bliss and it didn’t work and I got more of it on me than the flowers so I thought that was it. But this morning he called me again saying he had fixed the problem and I had to try again. So I did. And I thought it worked so I—“

“Stole a crop duster and sprayed everyone?” John supplies, looking somewhere between amused and annoyed. It must be nice for him not to be the fuck up for once. 

Which Rook doesn’t say because he’s not an asshole. And also because he’s surrounded be the rest of the Seed family who probably wouldn’t like if he did. “Yeah,” he says. “Impressive for only my second time flying, I thought.” He’d actually been proud of himself for about an hour before everything went tits up.

“That was your _second time?_ ” John asks.

Rook wonders if he should remind him that his first time involved stealing back Nick’s plane. “Only other time I’ve flown a plane was when I got Nick Rye’s back for him.” He grins so wide that it _hurts_ , staring John right in the eyes. “You remember that, John? When I flew Nick’s plane out of here?” 

“Yes.” John’s teeth grind together hard enough that Rook can practically hear it. 

Joseph sighs, drawing his attention away from John. “It would be best if we could cooperate for the time being,” he says. “We’re not your enemy, Rook.” Which is a load of horseshit, but for now the Seeds are all he has. Damn.

Rook bites his tongue from any more attempts to antagonize John. At least until his family leaves. There just isn’t a lot else to do at the ranch. “Okay, you’re right.”

“Guess he’s not an idiot after all,” Jacob mutters, collecting the empty plates and leaving for the kitchen. There’s the sound of water and the _clink_ of ceramic and Rook realises that Jacob is washing the dishes.

Rook cranes his neck, trying to see it. He can’t even conjure up a fucking picture. The Seeds aren’t supposed to do normal people things, they’re just meant to exist menacingly while preaching about the end of the world. This is the weirdest thing that’s happened in Hope County yet and he can’t _see it_. He’s halfway out of his chair when Joseph speaks again, clearly aware of what’s going on in Rook’s head.

“Would you happen to know what was in the formula?”

It could be a dozen different things that he’s been asked to get over the last week alone. From tree sap to fish bladders, Rook has delivered on all of it. “Maybe?” No telling which things were used or what ingredients Lindsey already had on hand than Rook wasn’t told about. “Right before he asked me to test the first batch Lindsey had me bring him some frogs.”

“Frogs?” Faith asks.

Rook shrugs. It wasn’t really a big deal at the time so he didn’t bother to ask.

“Is there anything else that you may know?” Joseph’s eyebrows are almost imperceptibly pinched. Like he’s growing desperate and frustrated, but doesn’t want anyone to know. Well, if Rook noticed his siblings sure as hell have.

“No,” Rook lies. It’s a bad call, he knows it’s a bad call, but he can’t give up the one place he’s kept secret from everyone. A small, broken down camper right at the edge of the valley where Rook can get some rest without anyone finding him, or hunting him, or demanding his time and energy. He’s not ready to give that up, especially not to the Seeds. 

After he’s spilled the first batch of the test neutralizer, he’d gone back there to change. Leaving behind both the soiled clothes and the not quite empty bottle. He’ll just… sneak out later and retrieve it. The Seeds won’t need to know a damn thing about where Rook goes to get away from all of this.

“Allright,” Joseph says, standing. “We will do what we can, for now.”

Faith stands too, Following after Joseph. “You’ll see,” she whispers, brushing her fingers along Rook’s arm, “what we can do _together_.”

“You’re lying,” John hisses as soon as they’re alone.

“I am not.”

“You are. You’re hiding something from us.”

Rook is _tired_. “And if I am, what will you do about it? Want to carve _liar_ into me, John?”

“ _You_ made us the enemy,” John says. “We would have accepted you without condition. This was _your choice_.” He leaves the same way Joseph and Faith did. 

“Fuck.” Rook hates this. Everything he touch breaks and he’s starting to wear thin. Physically, emotionally. He fucking feels bad for pissing off John again. 

Jacob is standing in in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Shirt pulled tight across muscles that could probably rip Rook’s head from his shoulders.

So Rook doesn’t say anything to the condescending amusement playing over Jacob’s face. Because first of all he’s not a child and he does know how to control himself, but mostly because the Seeds are still very dangerous people. Even if they want to work with him right now That doesn’t mean things won’t go back to normal as soon as this gets cleared up. 

Rook goes back to his room angry and frustrated at this entire situation, but mostly at himself.

*

In the morning Rook wakes up for the second time in as many days in John Seed’s house. At the very least he was in a bed this time, but maybe that makes it worse. Because it’s a nice bed and Rook slept like the dead. No concern at all for the other occupants of the house or the fact that there were Peggies right outside. All he did was lock the door, fall into the bed, and _sleep_. It might have even been the best night’s rest he’s had in months.

Who could have known that the secret to not starting every day more tired than the last was to screw over everyone else. 

Actually, that makes an unfortunate kind of sense. 

“Rook? Are you awake?” Joseph knocks on the door and he briefly considers pretending that he’s not. 

But he has to at least _try_ to get along. And Joseph is somehow the least likely to make him regret unlocking the door. Much as it is literally all his fault in the first place. Leader of the cult and all. “Yeah, hold on,” Rook calls, sliding out of bed and back into the pajama pants. The door unlocks with a click.

“Did you get enough sleep?” Joseph asks, genuine concern in his voice. It’s always unnerving how he does seem to actually care about people. _Some_ people. A small group that Rook has been included in for months with or without his consent.

“I did, yeah.” Rook eyes the dufflebag Joseph is holding. “Do you want to come in?”

“No,” Joseph says. “Faith and I will be leaving for the conservatory. We’re hoping to find answers there before matters get any worse.”

“Have they gotten worse?”

Joseph’s mouth pulls tight. “For now it’s nothing we can’t handle.”

“Joseph—“

“ _Rook_ ,” Joseph says, reaching out to place a hand on his neck. “I do not blame you for doing what you believed was right.”

That somehow does make Rook feel a little better. At least there is one person who doesn’t blame him, even if Rook blames himself. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. 

“Here.” Joseph holds up the duffle bag. “John asked me to bring these for you.”

It’s full of clothes. Not Rook’s clothes specifically, but his size nonetheless. And his leather jacket is folded on top. “How did you—“

“John guessed your size,” Joseph says. “And as for the jacket I believe it was one of John’s guards who had taken it.”

Rook is at a complete loss for words. So far Rook has been an asshole to John every chance he gets and John has given him protection from his own people, a place to stay, and now clothes to wear. “Thank you,” he says. “For bringing this.”

Joseph places a hand over his where he’s gripping the straps of the bag. “You should thank John. I know how he can be, but he does have a good heart. Sometimes he just has trouble showing it.”

“I’ll…” Rook sighs. “I’ll thank him when I see him.”

“Please do,” Joseph says, stepping back. “Jacob will be staying here as well. Most of his people are—“

“Too brainwashed to be brainwashed?”

“I know that you disagree with our methods, but I ask that for now you try to understand that we are working together.”

If Rook can keep his damn mouth shut maybe he can avoid pissing off Joseph as well as John. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry, it’s just… this situation is getting to me.”

“That is understandable. I do hope we can find a solution quickly,” Joseph says, turning to leave, but pausing just outside the door. He looks over his shoulder at Rook in quiet consideration. “I trust that whatever it is you’re planning to do won’t bring more trouble.” A thin smile plays over his lips. “We should be back in the morning.”

Rook is left dumbfounded, not entirely sure if Joseph is simply extremely perceptive or somehow tapped in to his mind. Both options have horrifying implications for him currently and in the future. A lot of Rook’s plans rely pretty heavily on spontaneity coupled with the fact that no one in the cult has a single clue what he's up to. 

He drops back to the bed, wondering if it would be worse if Joseph had simply learned how to read his tells.

*

Either John has disappeared or he’s been avoiding Rook all morning which he’s prepared to accept as a distinct possibility. At one point he does run into Jacob on the stairs, but loses his nerve to ask about John’s whereabouts before ever really trying. Rook wants to make some sort of amends with John, just not at the cost of engaging Jacob in conversation. Easily his least favorite Seed with his horror show music box, his nightmare murder maze, and his contrarily pleasant speaking voice. 

All of the Seeds mess with his head in the strangest ways.

So what else is Rook to do but to give up on this task he wasn’t too eager to do in the first place. Oh well, that’s just something he will have to live with. And besides, there is another thing Rook has to do and now, when no one is around to stop him, is as good a time as any. 

Rook’s gotten pretty skilled at sneaking into and out of places recently. Like since the helicopter crashed and took his sense of normalcy with it. And while John may have been prepared to keep Rook _out_ there isn’t much in the way of keeping him _in_. Especially now that most of the guards have been locked away.

For Rook’s safety.

Damn. He really will have to apologise to John eventually. 

He slips out of the house unnoticed and gets passed the property line without a single Peggie even suspecting he was outside. Though that may have less to do with Rook’s abilities than the sad fact that Peggies are easy to sneak by. 

Getting all the way to the camper is a little more tricky. There isn’t a car nearby and while his hideaway is distressingly close to the ranch, it’s not all that close on foot. If Rook wants to be quick about this then his best bet is to start walking and hope he finds an ATV on the way. Those damn things are everywhere, more than even the wolverines that infest Hope County like a fucking epidemic. Little razor blades of hate and fur.

He walks about twenty minutes before coming to an abandoned ATV and in that entire time he hasn’t seen a single other person. Not one. Not so much as that sound of a car on the road. It’s the quietest the valley has ever been. At least since he’s been here. The air feels still, unnaturally so, like the county is just waiting for the next thing to happen.

Maybe leaving the relative safety of the house was a mistake. 

But it’s too late to turn back and what Rook is getting may prove useful. 

When he does finally get to the camper an overwhelming sense of relief washes over him. It’s not a home, Rook doesn’t have one here, but it’s the next best thing. He presses in on the broken lock in just the right way to make it release and swing open the door with a creak of rusted hinges. The inside is clean, however. After he’d first found the thing in the woods, clearly uncared for, he had taken the time to clean it up. Turn it into something livable. 

Rook is almost tempted to curl up on the the thin mattress and take a nap just to feel like everything hasn’t slid further into Hell because of something he did. But he came here for a reason and the stillness of the valley has set his teeth on edge. It’s all wrong and he needs to fix it. He shoves his clothes into a plastic bag and searches around for the test bottle of neutralizer, unable to remember exactly where he left it. 

The bottle has rolled under the one small table there is and Rook reaches for it at the same moment a car pulls up outside, freezing his blood in his veins. 

The sound of footsteps over leaves and twigs has him scrambling for the emergency weapons cache he keeps in here. All those extra guns he never uses. 

“Rook? Are you in there?” John calls from the other side of the door. 

Rook stops loading up a shotgun, setting it down on the bed. Fuck. _Fuck_. All this work just to be _followed_. The one place he has for himself now part of John Seed’s knowledge. Part of him wants to wail at the unfairness of it all, but he understands a defeat when it happens. He took a risk and it failed.

“I would have thought I’d notice being followed,” Rook says, opening the door. Jacob is standing at the car, rifle in hand, watching the area with a clear paranoia that is maybe uncalled for. 

John pushes past him into the camper. “That’s because you weren’t,” he says. “Did you think I didn’t know about this place? There are only so many times you can come and go from the same area before it becomes suspicious.” 

“Then why did you never send anyone to get me?” Rook can’t believe that John wouldn’t use that knowledge to his advantage. 

John’s eyes dart from him to the the bed and then settling on the bag with Rook’s dirty clothes. “You left my home alone, I decided to do the same.”

“It’s not my home,” Rook says and specifically does not mention that he had absolutely been planning to take the ranch for the resistance. One big _fuck you_ to John Seed. “But thank you.”

John looks at him, and unreadable expression on his face. “Joseph believes that you are meant to join us.”

Rook is already keenly aware of what Joseph believes about him. “And what about you? What do you believe?”

“Joseph has a way of being right about things.” Which is not really an answer at all, but Rook isn’t going to press that particular point. “Why did you come here?”

“Thought I might have something that could help,” Rook says, holding up the plastic bag. “My clothes that I spilled the neutralizer on and, well, a bottle of the neutralizer itself. I was going to get it without you finding out about this place, but too late for that, I guess.”

“You thought that I would do something to your home if I knew about it?”

“It’s not my—“ Rook grits his teeth and reminds himself to stop being so antagonistic. “Yeah, that is what I thought.”

“I see,” John says, like Rook has said something hurtful. As if his opinions of the Seeds weren’t firmly based on their own actions. It’s not as though he just comes up with irrational reasons to dislike people. “It’s not safe here, we should leave.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“The situation has… escalated since this morning. Your Resistance has become more vocal about finding you.”

Which really doesn’t sound all that dangerous, so either John has a skewed concept of what’s safe or he’s holding back. Both options are likely. “Is that all?”

John hesitates, looking back out the door where Jacob is clearly listening but just as clearly uninterested. “Some have become violent,” he says. “Like those we locked in the bunker, but these people we can’t control.” John lowers his voice a little, a poor attempt to go truly unheard. “Jacob didn’t want you to know. He thinks you’ll do something stupid if you think your friends are in danger.”

Rook is definitely thinking of doing something stupid now that he knows his friends might be in danger. 

Jacob sighs, loud enough to be heard over the distance between them. “What exactly do you think will happen to your friends if you go to them and trigger a reaction?” Every line of his face looks unhappy at the idea that _he’s_ the one trying to prevent Rook from getting his friends hurt. “The best thing you can do for them is to keep your distance.”

“Fuck, okay. Fine.” Agreeing with Jacob Seed on anything is really going to haunt him for a long while.

“Now get in the damn car,” Jacob says. 

Rook gets in the damn car, though he makes his displeasure at being told what to do loudly known. 

“This is who the resistance have pinned their hopes on, huh,” Jacob mutters. 

As much as Rook would like to sulk in the backseat, while John and Jacob’s attentions are focused elsewhere, he knows he’s acting much like a petulant child. He knows it, he just doesn’t know how to stop. For once he can’t blame the Seeds for everything and he’s kind of forgotten how to exist any other way. A world made black and white, us versus _them_ , has distorted his perception of how to just be a person. 

Things were a lot easier when he didn’t have to face the consequences of his own actions.

The only sound in the car is the Peggie radio station playing their annoyingly catchy devotion. More than once Rook has caught one of their songs stuck in his own head, a side effect of spending so much of his time in Peggie controlled areas. But it’s a little weird to sit there listening to a more stainless version of Joseph’s life with his brothers who must know how it all really happened. 

Rook is almost tempted to ask about it, reluctantly curious in spite of himself, but the song ends and turns over to the next. The melody of Jacob’s theme fills the air.

Jacob grunts and shuts the radio off while John huffs amusement. Not exactly the answer to the question Rook had, but an answer nonetheless.

But now the car is silent and that’s somehow worse.

“Are you—“ John starts, gazing at Rook in the sideview mirror. “Is there anything you need?”

“No, the clothes were… thank you. And for getting my jacket back.”

“I wasn’t sure of your size—“

“No,” Rook says, “it was perfect.” 

“I see.” John shifts in his seat to get a better view of him. “I’m glad.”

“John.” Jacob pulls one hand from the wheel and places it over John’s knee. Some silent communication that Rook has no hope of understanding, though it does have John turning back around. 

“We are not your enemy,” John says quietly, repeating the cult’s favorite phrase in case there’s a chance that Rook will ever believe them. 

Not likely.

Rook stares out the window and doesn’t answer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this is as fun to read as it was for me to write????

The drive back to the ranch is uneventful and _quiet_. No one shoots at them since there are no other people on the roads; not a single Resistance or Peggie. Like everyone just forgot they were supposed to be fighting today.

“Be careful,” Jacob says when he pulls up to the front door. They keys stay in the ignition and he makes no move to get out after them.

Rook would never admit it out loud, not under threat of torture, but having Jacob around had eased his nerves somewhat. Who else, besides Rook himself, would be foolish enough to attack him, especially in his own home. “You’re not staying?” he asks, feigning casual disinterest.

“You going to miss me?”

“Hardly.”

Jacob’s grin is vicious. “Someone has to take _this—_ “ he reaches through the open window and grabs the plastic bag from Rook’s hands— “to Joseph.”

When Jacob drives off Rook is left with a distinctly uhappy looking John and a handful of Peggies who… seem sane? Rook is far from an expert on the baseline sanity of Peggies, but he assumes that it’s a good sign when none of them immediately rush to him in a lust-fueled haze. “Are the Pe— the _faithful_ going to be a problem?”

“Most of the _faithful_ ,” John spits displeasure, “are Jacob’s. Only a few of my guards haven’t been moved to the bunker.”

Well, shit. “Joseph mentioned that Jacob’s people were largely unaffected.”

“Do you talk with Joseph often?”

“He has a habit of being everywhere all the time,” Rook shrugs. Out of all of them, Joseph, intense, crazy Joseph, is somehow the best at pretending to be normal when he wants to. Not that Rook plans to mention that to John, ever. For personal safety reasons.

John spins on his heel, spine straight and shoulders tense, and heads inside. “Then maybe you should direct your questions at _him_.”

“What?” Rook jogs to catch up, following John through the house. “Are you mad at me?” This time he hadn’t even done anything. Not that he knows of, at least, but he has been paying attention more. Trying to curb his worse instincts before the Seeds decide he’s better off left for the civilians and the Peggies to deal with. Or just flat out kill him; that’s always on the table. “What have I done?”

“Nothing,” John says. “I’m sure Jacob’s still close by, you could go with him instead of staying here.”

What the fuck? “What the _fuck?_ ”

“Or Faith? She would love to have you around.” 

Rook is completely lost in wherever this conversation has gone. “What are you talking about? I don’t want to go to the _Henbane_.” Of all the places in the county that one has to be the worst option for him at the moment. What the hell is John thinking?

They end up in a relatively sedate office, compared to the decorating in the rest of the house. Just a desk and shelves, shelves, and more shelves filled with books. It’s actually pretty nice. Definitely the kind of space Rook would want to set up in his own place, if he ever got a chance to do more than unpack the one box with his work uniform. 

“What is with you Seeds trying to get me killed?” he asks, mostly to himself because he does know the answer to that one. He’s trying to stop them, so _he_ has to be stopped.

John whirls on him so fast the Rook has to take a step back. “We have _never_ put you in a situation we didn’t know that you would survive. That you would come out of _better_.”

“You tried to _drown me._ ” Rook reminds him since they’ve already covered this part. The whole attempted murder thing that’s still a big deal to him, even if it’s just one instance in a series of many. 

“Yes, fine,” John says, “I misspoke. But the baptism, the trials, the Bliss, all of it was to make you _see_. To _understand_. What has the resistance done for you besides point you at targets to kill?”

Rook is starting to feel a bit of that wrath he apparently has so much of. “They’re my friends, they care—“

“Do they? How much do they care when they’ve left you alone to bear the burden of their survival? Even the most competent among them: Jeffries, your sheriff, Eli. All of them expect _you_ to do what they won’t.”

“Because no one else can!” That’s why Rook is the one getting his hands dirty. That’s why _he_ destroys the silos and the shrines and why _he_ is the one to lead the assault on the outposts. They’re all counting on _him_ to do what has to be done.

“And how is that any different from us? Joseph believes— _we_ believe that you were sent here for us. For a reason. That no one else can do what you can.”

“That’s not—“ his teeth click, biting off more fuel for John’s fire. “You’re twisting my words.”

“Am I?” John asks. “Do you even know what you believe in?”

“Yeah, I do,” Rook says. “I believe that you and your _family_ should rot in a jail cell for the rest of your miserable lives.”

John folds his arms across his chest, looking obnoxiously smug. “Well I’m glad you have _something_ to believe in. What strong convictions you must have.”

“You know what? Go fuck yourself, John.” Rook leaves, uninterested in anything else John has to say. 

Something shatters behind him and he doesn’t care to find out what.

*

Rook is going to leave. His plan is to pack his bag of all the clothes that were given to him, along with whatever else he can grab because honestly fuck John Seed. Who cares what he and his crazy family believe in. Who cares what he thinks of Rook’s friends. It’s not his fault that John is the least stable of his brothers and everyone knows he’s always going to be their biggest liability. John is just a miserable fuck up who's trying to project his own insecurities onto someone else.

So Rook is going to get the fuck out of John’s home because he’s better off risking it with the lust-crazed locals than staying another minute in John’s deranged orbit.

That’s the plan. 

Until he gets back to his room and finds a portable radio, like the resistance uses to drown out all the Peggie music, and several books laid out on the bed, waiting for him. Fiction books. Some more to his taste than others, but there’s a wide array to choose from. And all of them likely came from John’s office and left here for him. Probably how John discovered he’d sneaked out earlier.

Rook drops onto the bed, still angry, but it’s dissipating. This was… thoughtful. Another gesture of maybe not kindness or friendship, but _something_ , and Rook couldn’t play nice for ten minutes. Even if John started it.

God, when did he turn back into a teenager? 

He’s still too pissed off to try to fix anything. Not that any of it was his fault. John lost his damn mind over nothing and blamed Rook for it. Which is why he has no intention of trying to repair this mess, at least not yet, but he will. Later.

There are only two stations that can be picked up in the valley at the moment. The Peggie station featuring an endless rotation of cult hits, and the one for normal people who aren’t in a damn cult. Rook picks the second one because as catchy as some of those Peggie songs are, he’s not going to risk one of the Seeds finding out he knows all the lyrics to Oh John. 

He would literally rather go through Jacob’s murder playground again. 

The books range in style and flavor with none projecting any religious themes. At least not overtly. And Rook is a little annoyed that apparently he and John share a similar interest in genres. Too bad they’re so ideologically opposed, and that John is as much a raving lunatic as the rest of the cult, or Rook might actually like him. 

He flops back, head bouncing on an overstuffed pillow, and grabs for the nearest book. 

Of course he can’t concentrate enough to read; going over the same paragraph over and over without taking in a single word. John’s words run circles in his mind. 

Rook isn’t… he isn’t the only one working to dismantle everything the cult has built. He _not_. There are many others all working for the same goal, and everyone is doing their part, but—

 _But_.

If he were to stop, if he just didn’t take an outpost or a roadblock or a van full of prisoners, would someone else? Why does he have to spread himself thin over the entire county to make inroads against the cult? Why can’t someone else blow up the damn statue if it’s such a problem? The thing is an eyesore, sure, but Rook can easily just ignore it and he’s the one who jumped off the damn thing. 

Which still doesn’t make a lot of sense if he thinks about it too hard. By all accounts he should have been dead when he hit the ground.

Maybe he’ll ask Faith about it when she gets back. 

Or one of her brothers who have a better chance of giving him a straight answer.

But none of that means he believes that he was sent here by God. Rook is just a guy trying to do his best in a horrible situation. And also it’s his job. Rook isn’t the only one who can do what he does because of _fate_. The resistance trusts him to get the job done because so far he’s the only one who _has_. 

It’s… better that fewer people will have as much blood on their hands as he does.

That’s the choice he made in the church. 

Rook sighs discontent, needing to get out of his own head. Maybe food will help. 

When he opens the door John is standing on the other side, one fist raised like he was about to knock.

“John,” Rook says, not entirely sure where their civility level is at right now. 

“Rook, I…” John takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, making Rook wait for him to decide what to say. “I wanted to apologise. For what I said.”

“You do?” Rook is going to need a map to navigate his relationship with John Seed. Everywhere there be monsters. 

“Yes.” John rolls his shoulders back, wearing confidence like armor, meeting his eyes. “I understand that you are resistant to our beliefs and it was wrong of me to trying forcing your hand when you aren’t ready.”

That’s really not at all what Rook was— _is_ angry about, but if this will prevent any future attempts at carving sin into his chest then he’s willing to take it. Not at all because John touched on some truths that were easier left buried. “That’s one way to put it,” he mutters, scrubbing at his face. “Thank you, and for the books, you didn’t have to—“

“I don’t want you to be unhappy,” John interrupts, startling the both of them. His eyes are a wide panicked like he hadn’t meant to say that. “You’re— you’re a guest, of course. You shouldn’t be uncomfortable while you’re staying here.”

“Yeah? I mean, it’s my fault we’re in this situation, you really don’t have to do anything for me.”

“Some things are meant to happen,” John says. “What you did brought you to us, just as Joseph said you were meant to be.”

Rook sighs, tired of constantly fighting against John. Once they fix the Bliss problem he can go right back to dismantling the cult, but right now he’s hungry and running out of energy to fight the little things. “I was going to get something to eat,” he says to change the subject away from whatever the Seeds believe. 

“Oh,” John says, taking a step back to allow Rook out of the room. “There isn’t much in the kitchen; Joseph usually cooks.”

“Well you must have something.”

“Cereal…” John trails off.

Turns out John has _a lot_ of cereal. Like a concerning amount. 

“How do you not have scurvy,” Rook asks, genuinely curious how a grown man has survived this long without a single piece of real fruit. 

“I told you, Joseph cooks,” John says. “And sometimes the faithful with prepare meals for everyone.”

“But you don’t?”

“I never learned. It was never-- there were always more important things.”

“Okay, alright.” Rook opens the refrigerator which, thank God, is stocked with ingredients. “I’m going to teach you how to make an omelet,” he says, grinning at the look of horror on John’s face.

*

John is a quick and competent study after his initial hesitancy. He’s actually sort of fun to be around when he’s not spitting sin and demanding atonement. It’s weird, but in a good way that’s going to make it difficult to fight him in the future. Not that Rook won’t be able to, he’s gotten pretty good at compartmentalising after all.

“How do I know when it’s time to fold the egg?” John asks, poking at the two pans they have going.

Rook finishes putting away the unused ingredients; his good manners warring with how little he cares about storing things correctly. It’s really not his problem if he screws up whatever system is in place in the kitchen, but damn he does make an attempt at getting it right. 

“Let me see,” he says, looking over John’s shoulder. “That’s good, okay—“ he places his hands against John’s waist to gently nudge him to the side to make room in front of the stove. “First, add the cheese.” Rook would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of the Seeds eating real, organic produce while he’s been living off of protein bars, beer, and stale bags of chips almost exclusively for the last few months. 

He grabs the plates, handing one over to John. “Watch what I do, okay?” The egg slides off the pan perfectly and he gets it folded right onto the plate. 

“That easy, is it.” 

“Here, let me—“ Rook puts his hand over John’s on the handle to help him angle it just right. “Now, use the spatula to gently push the egg down.”

John is a line of tension beside him, hyper focused on getting the egg onto the plate. “Sure,” he says a little breathless.

“There you go,” Rook says, squeezing John’s hand for a moment before releasing and stepping back. “See, not too hard.”

“Yeah.” John’s cheeks are pink with embarrassment that Rook kindly doesn’t mention. 

Rook scoops up both plates and sets them on the table. “And now we eat,” he says, excited for a real home cooked meal. The closest he’s gotten recently was a roadkill burger he’s still a little unsure about. Like, it was good, but at what cost? 

John doesn’t move for a second, just standing there watching Rook with an odd look on his face before he seems to shake off whatever was going on in his head. “This has been… interesting,” he says, joining him at the table. 

“It’s good.”

John tries to hide a pleased smile at his first bite. Probably all that _pride_ at his accomplishment. But again Rook pretends not to notice in the interest of not ruining their nice moment. 

Which is fine, there’s always Jacob to ruin it for him by kicking the front door open, carrying a dead or unconscious judge. And Jacob doesn’t look much better.

Rook shoves the rest of his omelet in his mouth because he knows this is going to become a _thing_ that they’re all going to have to deal with and he isn’t going to let good food go to waste. He fucking deserves this meal and Jacob and his hell-wolf aren’t going to stop him.

“What the fuck,” John shouts, standing up, but understandably frozen where he is.

“Had some problems,” Jacob grunts, setting the judge down on the floor halfway to the kitchen. They’re both covered in a worrying amount of blood, though Rook can pinpoint at least one injury on Jacob’s chest that looks a lot like a knife wound if he were to guess. “Found this girl fighting with her handler about a mile away.”

“I thought they were trained to obey their handlers,” Rook says.

“They are.”

John runs a hand through his hair, mouth pressed in a tight line. “And you thought to bring the dog instead of the person?”

Jacob rolls his eyes like John said something irrational. “The handler is dead, and the _wolf_ tried to stop him when he attacked me. Thought I had Rook locked away and he wanted to take him back.”

“Shit,” Rook says. Peggies aren’t supposed to attack their Heralds, that’s kind of the opposite of their entire purpose.

“Sir?” One of the Peggies runs in, getting as far as a proper view into the kitchen and stopping dead in their tracks. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, breathing hard, and staring directly at Rook.

“ _Jacob_ ,” John says angrily. 

Jacob grabs the Peggie by their shoulder and leads them back outside. A single gunshot later and John sighs relief, picking his fork back up and resuming his dinner while Rook strongly reconsiders having eaten anything at all. He might be sick.

“You’re not concerned?”

“Of course I am,” John hisses. “We keep losing good followers.”

“You could have _not killed them_.”

John frowns like Rook said something incomprehensible. “What would you have me do? That was one of Jacob’s guards and we thought they were resistant, like us. If they’re not… I’m going to finish eating so I can keep working to keep you safe.” He takes another bite and chews aggressively. 

Jacob stomps back inside, splattered with more blood than when he left. “Things have gotten worse out there,” he says, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Will Joseph be alright in the Henbane?” John asks. 

Jacob pulls a chair out from the table and drops into looking exhausted. “Yeah,” he says, pressing palms over his eyes. “I wanted to stay there to watch out for him, but he insisted it was more important that I be here.”

Rook grabs a dishcloth, running it under hot water, and handing it over to Jacob. “For the blood,” he says, aware of how much of a burden he is right now. He has a pretty good idea of what lengths the Seeds will go to for each other, especially for Joseph, and it must be killing Jacob to leave him when their own people could prove dangerous to them. 

“Thanks.” Jacob wipes off his hands and face and the blood dripping from his beard. “Shit,” he says, looking at the judge still on the floor. “She got hit with a few of the Bliss bullets. Nothing she can’t shake off when she wakes up.” He stands, going over to the judge and crouching down beside her, running his fingers through her fur. “She’s loyal.”

Not to her handler, but Rook doesn’t think anyone will appreciate him pointing that out.

“She’s getting blood on my floor,” John says.

“Not my problem,” Jacob says, wiping away some of the blood matted in the judge’s fur.

Rook quietly gets up and clears the dirty plates from the table. “Are you hungry?” He has no idea what compels him to offer to make Jacob anything to eat, besides the voice of his grandmother telling him to be a gracious host. It’s not even his fucking house. 

“You offerin’ to cook for me?”

John stands, chair scraping on the tiles. “I can do it,” he says, then to Jacob’s raised eyebrow, “Rook taught me.”

“Did he now.”

They do more of that silent communication that Rook doesn’t quite understand, Though this time he’s pretty sure it’s a commentary of him teaching John anything. Maybe Jacob doesn’t like his baby brother fraternizing with the enemy, even if they should be a little past that already. Especially with Joseph’s blessing that he stay here for now. And it’s not as if avoiding John in his own home is an easily accomplished task. 

He starts washing the dishes to avoid getting caught in the middle of whatever they’re doing. 

“That’d be really nice of you, John,” Jacob says real sweet with only a hint of being sarcastically over the top. “But I already ate.”

Rook doesn’t laugh at the angered noise John makes only because of his close proximity to knives. “Have they found anything yet?” he asks, interrupting the insult forming on John’s lips. “Will the things I sent be any help?”

“Faith thinks so,” Jacob says, sitting back at the table and tossing the cloth into the sink. It’s smears wetly along Rook’s arm, leaving a trail of bloody water, before landing with a gross slap. 

Rook tries to wash all the blood out of it before it has a chance to stain. “A gift? Jacob, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

John presses in close, warm hand a light pressure against his back. “You don’t have to—“

“Nah, it’s fine,” Rook says. “It gives me something to do.”

“You two seem comfortable.”

John pulls away, rounding on his brother. “What have they found so far?”

“Not a lot,” Jacob says. “Faith is doing what she can without her scientists, but it’s just her and Joseph and a lot of Angels over there. This shit’s only going to get worse.”

“Fuck.” Rook drops the cloth into the sink. It won’t get any better. “There has to be something we— something _I_ can do.”

“You think so?” For the second time Jacob pulls out his radio. It clicks on and he drops it on the table so they can all listen while someone screams on the other end. Just pain and anger and what sounds almost like Rook’s name, distorted under rage. “What are you gonna do besides get yourself killed, or worse.”

“No one knows where you are,” John says softly. “You’re safe here.”

Which is somehow absolutely true.

*

“Rook.” John catches him at the bottom of the stairs on his way to bed. 

Jacob has already disappeared with his wolf outside, saying he was going to hose down the judge and then himself, or hose down the judge and then take a shower. Both are possible and Rook thinks that Jacob was being intentionally vague just to fuck with his brother.

“I wanted to apologise again,” John says, warm fingers holding his wrist. “For what I said earlier.”

If Rook stays here too long he’s definitely going to forget that John is a violent sadist. “It’s fine,” he says, not pulling out of John’s grip like he should. “What you said… it wasn’t entirely wrong.”

“I— _we_ are always here for you, Rook. The Project will be here to share your burdens if you let us.”

“I don’t think I can do that, John.”

John squeezes his wrist, a light pulse that he doesn’t seem to notice. “You don’t have to suffer alone.”

“And what about you? Aren’t you suffering under Joseph’s expectations?” He might not know everything about the Seeds, but Rook has a pretty good idea that Joseph asks more of John than he can give. 

“I’m not alone,” John whispers, taking a step up the stairs, bringing them closer. “Joseph wants only the best for me. He’s given me everything I could want and compared to that he wants so little in return. He said you would come and now you’re _here_.”

“I don’t understand.”

John’s eyes are so blue. “You will. I’ll show you.”

“John…” Rook can’t be what the Seeds want of him. That’s not the kind of person he is, even when they welcome him into their home and treat him like family. Like he belongs. He can’t follow John into his madness. 

“Goodnight, Rook,” John says, without a trace of that intimacy from a moment ago. He steps away, down the stairs, breaking that connection of warmth around his wrist. “Joseph will be back in the morning.”

“Goodnight, John.”

*

Rook doesn’t get much sleep that night. Guilt weighs heavy on his conscience that his friends are suffering because of what he did and that’s without the added confusion of where he fits anymore. Will he really be able to walk away from this? Can he go back to the way things used to be when the Seeds still felt like his enemy? 

Maybe they have a point after all. He hasn’t been _their_ enemy, but they’ve been _his_. 

In the morning he stumbles out of bed, tired and a book and a half deep into the pile John had given him. He bypasses the Seed siblings gathered together in the living room, discussing what else but the Bliss. Apparently they’re all morning people who don’t know how to chill out long enough to enjoy a morning curled up in a nice bed. 

Well, at least John looks as tired as he feels. Rook catches him trying to hide a yawn before he slips into the kitchen.

He searches through John’s large assortment of cereals, picking the one with the largest quantity of sugar and lowest quantity of health benefits. Honestly he’s surprised, and a little impressed, that John would have something so brightly colored and sweet and Rook takes all that’s left of it.

He steps back into the other room where the Seeds are discussing the Bliss of all shocking possibilities. “Anything new?” he asks around a mouthful of cereal, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

Jacob pulls a face of absolute disgust and slides his eyes over to John who looks _pained_.

“Sorry,” Rook mumbles, “I was raised in a barn.”

“Like you, Jacob,” John says with an utterly charming smile.

He sets his bowl on the table to arrange himself in a more comfortable position, seated in the middle of the sofa, curling his legs up in a direct copy of Faith. When he reaches for it again, it’s gone. 

“You could get your own,” he says to John who just shrugs and takes another bite. Rook leans into him, knocking his knee against John’s arm and pressing his fingers at his side. “Stealing is a crime, John.”

“My lawyer’s great, I’ll be fine.” 

Rook swoops in and clamps his mouth around the end of the spoon before John can get another bite.

“You—“

He uses John’s stunned silence to take back his breakfast. 

Joseph clears his throat, Faith giggles, and Rook remembers that they’re not alone. His face heats under the scrutiny of John’s family. 

“Sorry,” he says, shoving the spoon back into his mouth so he won’t say or do anything else embarrassing. Beside him, John looks about in the same state, so that helps a little. Misery loves company and all that.

“I am glad to see you so at ease in our home,” Joseph says, pleased smile on his tired face. There are dark smudges under his eyes that Rook finally takes notice of and he wonders about when he and Faith got home and if they’ve slept at all. 

Rook nods in the following quiet, unsure what to say. 

“We have an idea of what happened,” Faith says. “The chemical you sprayed didn’t change the Bliss, but it did react to it.”

“Seems you dialed the Bliss up to eleven,” Jacob says.

Faith turns on the couch, getting a better angle to face everyone. “Yes and no. But it doesn’t matter. The Bliss has reached everyone in the county so even the ones away from the river are still going to feel the effects.”

“We’ve seen,” John says.

“Can we reverse it?” Rook asks. There has to be a way out of this mess.

Joseph sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I believe so, but we will need the final formula.”

“I don’t have it.”

“But you know who does,” Jacob says.

Dr. Lindsey. In the prison with the sheriff and the Resistance and people who will stop at nothing to see the Seeds pay for what they’ve done. One way or another. “You can’t go in the prison, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Joseph says, frowning. “The longer we wait, the more people are losing control.”

“I’ll do it.” Rook can’t let anyone get hurt because of him, including the Seeds. “I’ll go in there and get Lindsey or his formula if I have to.”

“Rook, you can’t,” John says, grabbing him by the arm and causing milk to slosh over the side of the bowl. “You don’t know what will happen if you go in there.”

“No, but I know what will happen if any of you do it instead.”

John turns to his brothers, eyes wide and anxious. “You can’t let him do this.”

“I admit I’m not happy about it,” Joseph says. 

Jacob crosses his arms, jaw set tight. “Rook has a point. We can’t get in and out of that prison without a fight. If we want to avoid that then we send him in alone.”

“He _can’t_.”

“John.” Rook sets his bowl down on the table and places his hand over John’s on his arm. “It’s fine, I’m used to doing things on my own.” But what he’s not used to is comforting John Seed about his well being. This is brand new territory.

“But you’re not alone anymore, you have us.”

“That’s not—“

“You’ll take the dog,” John says. “Jacob, give him your dog.”

“You got a dog?” Faith asks.

“She’s a wolf,” Jacob mutters annoyance, though his expression turns considering. “That’s not a bad idea.”

Rook thinks it’s a very bad idea. He hasn’t had a single positive experience with a judge since he found out about their existence, and that includes the day before when the judge in question was lying unconscious on the floor. “I really don’t think that’s necessary.”

“The dog will go with you or I will,” John says, fingers digging into the meat of his arm.

“Yes, okay.” Rook will take the damn dog if it means keeping John from a bunch of Resistance who will happily shoot him on sight. 

“Tomorrow,” Joseph says. “I believe most of us still need rest from yesterday.”

Tomorrow Rook will walk into the prison to get answers from Dr. Charles Lindsey and hopefully after that he’ll walk out again.

*

Rook finds John back in his office after a quick shower and a change into something besides pajamas. The clothes really do fit like they were made for him and the lack of holes and bloodstains is somewhat of a novelty. It feels great, like he’s a person again instead of a weapon.

“Thought you might want this back,” he says, handing over the book he finished. 

John flips it over, running a finger down the spine. “You liked it?”

“Yeah.” Rook shrugs, looking around at the shelves. He hadn’t noticed last time he was in here, but there are several framed photos of the Seeds scattered between all the books. 

“Is there something you need?”

“Uh, no?” For some reason he’d thought to seek out John when he couldn’t figure out what to do with himself. It had definitely seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he’s not so sure. “I guess I should—“

“Do you want to go flying?”

“What?”

John looks _eager_. Half way out of his chair, palms flat on his desk. “You said you’ve only flown twice. I could— I could teach you.”

“Nick taught me.”

“I’m _better_.”

Rook should probably feel insulted on behalf of his friend, but John is just so earnest and pleased, that he doesn’t want to poke. “Okay, teach me how to fly.”

A grin spreads across John’s mouth, showing his perfect white teeth. “Wait right here,” he says, shuffling a few papers around and shoving them into the desk. “I’ll be right back. Don’t— don’t go anywhere.

Rook waits an entire twenty seconds of being alone in the office before he starts rifling through John’s stuff. There’s nothing in particular that he’s after, but he’s curious. And his impulse control is pretty low on the best of days. 

Besides the pictures of the Seed family; all dressed up and looking happy and harmless, there’s also John’s law degree and license to practice in Montana. Framed and everything, mounted on the wall so that anyone in front of John would have to see those too. This is easily Rook’s favorite place in the house, in spite of the reminders of who the space belongs to. 

He sits down at the desk and pulls open the drawers. Pens, papers, boring cult stuff, except for the largest drawer at the bottom. It’s filled with files, each labeled with a name. Some that Rook recognises and some that he doesn’t. A lot that he doesn’t, actually. 

His own folder is near the front. 

It’s extensive. There are things in the file that no one should even _have_. And that’s not including his resume or his college transcripts. There are medical records in the file. That’s… this is a background check. How much does John know about him?

There is also a stack of about a dozen photos. All of them have been taken since this mess began, though in none of them can he even remember a single Peggie being around much less a Peggie with a camera. But one photo, at the bottom of the stack, is a picture of him from the day he arrived in Hope County. 

Why does John have this?

He hears footsteps in the hall and quickly shuts everything away.

“Alright, I—“ John’s head tilts curiously. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting?”

John smiles, looking genuinely happy. “I told the guards to move away from the hangar so that we can leave without them seeing you,” he says, holding a hand out for Rook to take.

“Well,” Rook allows himself to be pulled up and out of the room, “lead the way.”

Rook doesn’t know a lot about planes but he’s certain the one in the hanger isn’t Affirmation. “This isn’t your usual plane, is it?” For starters it’s missing even a hint of an Eden’s Gate cross anywhere on it, but also it’s very shiny and blue. 

“No,” John says, guiding him into the two-seater cockpit. “This one is… I borrowed it.”

“You stole it.”

“It’s mine now and no one is going to ask for it back.” John’s expression is _very_ pointed. Almost like he expects Rook to try taking the plane _right now_ while they’re both sitting in it.

Rook sighs. It’s definitely still his job to arrest criminals, but theft is really the least of the Seeds’ crimes, so. This isn’t going to be his problem today. He’s here for a flying lesson and maybe later something to eat and a bath. 

“Besides,” John adds, “this one is better for teaching.” The hangar doors open and John drives the plan out onto the runway. 

This is probably not a bad idea. 

It’ll be fine, John knows what he’s doing.

Rook grips the seats like that’ll somehow help in case of an emergency landing.

“Alright, I want you to take the wheel and get us down the runway and into the air.”

“Sure,” Rook says. That’s the easy part. “I can do that. It’s the landing, turning, and flying part that I’m bad at.”

John stares a bit, though Rook is too focused on the runway to give it much thought. “Why did you use a crop duster if you’re bad at everything besides taking off?”

“Oh, you know.” Rook gets them into the air, feeling pretty damn proud of himself. “I thought the one lesson would be enough, but when I landed in the river I realised I was wrong.”

“You have to stop being so reckless.”

“It’s worked for me so far,” Rook says with a very mild shrug, too afraid of sending them into a nosedive with the wrong movements.

John presses some buttons and flips a switch that are probably important, though Rook can’t even begin to guess. His last two plane rides sure didn’t have at least two of those buttons, so his frame of reference is a little off. 

“I don’t want you to be killed,” John says, placing a hand over his.

“You have a funny way of showing that.”

“I already told you—“

“No, no, I mean,” Rook hazards a glance over at John’s worried face. “If you don’t want to get me killed you and your sibling could stop putting me in dangerous situations.”

“We’re only doing what we have to.”

“Right, because you need me to attone.”

John sighs, his hand still a pressure of warmth over his own. “That is part of it, yes. But it’s more than that. _You_ are more than that.”

“I really don’t understand…”

“I know.” John finally moves his hand away and Rook is almost disappointed at the loss. “You said you had trouble with turning?”

*

The landing is a lot smoother than the previous two times. Partially because Rook isn’t scared shitless that he’s about to die in a fiery crash, but also because he doesn’t have to escape the plane into the Bliss filled river. They just. Land the plane on the runway. 

It’s actually pretty fun. 

Rook tumbles out of the plane giddy with his success. “That was—“ he tugs John closer by his stupid plane jacket— “fucking amazing.” 

John’s beard is softer than it looks and his lips part easily when Rook licks into his mouth. He tastes sugary sweet and a little like the Bliss when he tilts his head and presses deeper. 

“You liked it that much?” John breathes laughter into the air, fingers sliding around the back of his neck and into his hair to hold him close.

“Guess so,” Rook presses a smile to his lips. This has to be a side effect of an adrenaline rush and too long in the company of John Seed, but damn. He has no plans to stop. “What do you think we should do next?” John’s skin is hot under his hands where his pushes under his shirt, untucking it from his jeans. 

John walks backwards pulling Rook along with him. “I think we should take this inside.”

There is at least one Peggie that Rook can see, right at the edge of the property line, looking scandalised. Which, all things considered, is a lot better than lustful. “Great idea,” he says, dragging John’s jacket off. “I’m not really into being watched.”

“I’m not into sharing,” John says, shoving him through the front door, and biting at his mouth like a claim. Like Rook is going to belong to him now.

“Yeah?” Rook will sort out those details later. When his mouth and hands and everything are less occupied. 

They trip and dance up the stairs and into John’s bedroom, even when Rook’s is closer. John’s must be better. He always tries to do things _better_.

“Can I— what do you want?”

“You,” John says, pushing him back on the bed, “just like this.”

Rook shucks his jeans off and removes his shirt with some degree of difficulty once John starts _touching him_. “Do you— okay, fuck—“ the wet pressure of John’s fucking throat have him reaching down to grab at his hair, but unsure if he’s allowed. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he laughs, breathless. 

John pulls off his cock with a soft _pop_ that has Rook opening his legs to let John take up all the space between them. “Everything,” he says, sealing his lips around the soft head of his cock and dipping his tongue into the slit.

“ _Fuck_.” Rook gasps deep lungfuls of air that he shudders out at every twist of a clever tongue on his cock. 

John reaches up, pressing fingers into his mouth that Rook instinctively sucks on before his brain catches up to the implication. This is going to be more than he expected but exactly what he wants and Rook is going to jump into this madness head first.

He groans when spit-slick finger push into him. The stretch burns just right after so long with anything even close to this. There just hasn’t been time. Rook had gotten used to only a quick jerk off session when he had a moment to himself, which wasn’t often at all. And God he _needed this._ “John, John, I can’t, I’m gonna—“

John presses deeper, spreads him open, and swallows down around his cock. 

Rook comes, spilling down John’s throat, and crying his name on a trembling repeat. He practically sees stars it’s been so long.

“I want to fuck you,” John says, voice wrecked in the best kind of way. 

“Yes,” Rook says. “Please, yes.”

John finally sheds the rest of his own clothes and pulls something out of a drawer that he spreads over his own cock in a generous coating.

“Oh, now you find the lube,” Rook grunts, failing to sound annoyed even a little. 

“You look perfect like this,” John says, folding one of Rook’s legs up to his chest. “I want…” he gazes down at what must be just a lot of unmarked skin for him to claim.

If he asked Rook might actually let him right now. So he pulls John into a kiss to make sure he doesn’t, tasting himself in John’s mouth when he shifts, lines up his cock, and pushes in. A slow drag of pressure that Rook feels all the way up his spine. 

John fucks him without so much as a hint of that carefully controlled wrath that’s always threatening to burst out of him and consume everyone in his path. He rocks his hips, pushes in, with a gentle rhythm that is somehow worse. Rook could really start to love this.

“Next time,” John whispers into his neck, “next time you will let me tie you up.”

Rook shouldn’t want that as much as he does.

“You’ll let me ride you, let me mark you. Won’t you?”

“Yes,” Rook answers, ready to agree to anything when John wraps long fingers around his cock. 

“I knew you would be perfect,” John says, trying to fuck all of his madness into Rook who accepts everything, dragging him down into another kiss to swallow the rest of his words. All of the promises that are going to his head and making him _want_.

Rook’s second orgasm hits him with less force. It flows out of him, pulling him under like water and he drags John in with him until they’re both shaking apart, together. 

“Fuck,” John laughs as they catch their breath.

“Yeah.” Rook is a sticky, wet mess and he feels better than he has in months. “That was—“

John kisses him again and carefully eases out. “Amazing?”

“Someone is confident.”

“I know my talents.” John grins, letting his head drop to the pillows.

Rook reaches over the side of the bed to grab John’s shirt to clean up with and laughs at the undignified squawk of outrage he gets in return. “Very talented,” he agrees with only a hint of sarcasm just to be contrary, though John doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m not falling asleep, I’m just closing my eyes,” he adds when his head hits the pillow and he practically melts at how comfortable it is.

“Sure,” John whispers, running his fingers up and down his back. 

This whole situation is far too intimate, but Rook can’t bring himself to leave yet. 

*

The bedroom door swings open to the sound of Jacob’s voice. “Hey, John, have you seen Rook, I—“ he makes a sound that truly resonates in its misery. “For fuck sake.” 

John pulls the pillow out from under Rook’s head and throws it at his brother. “Learn to knock!”

Now Rook is awake, his face smashed against the mattress where just seconds ago he had a fucking pillow. He steals John’s while he’s not looking because he was having a nice post-sex nap that he’d like to get back to.

The door slams closed again and they can hear Jacob walk part way down the hall before turning back. “Send him out when you’re done with him,” he calls, stomping away again.

“I’m never going to be done with you,” John says, crowding into his space on Rook’s new pillow. “Not now that I have you.” He leans in, all soft affection that’s so different than the version of John he’s known for months. This new version is definitely an improvement, however.

Rook hums confusion; his mind still a little hazy with sex and sleep. “Have me?”

“Joseph said you were sent to join us.” John presses a kiss to his lips that he allows to be made into something more. “I knew you were meant to be mine,” John whispers, barely a breath away.

Rook pulls away, brain finally coming back online. So there’s that madness that’s been so elusive lately. “I’m not— I’m not _meant for you_.” The words don’t sound bad in his mouth and that just makes it all the more clear the extent of just how much of a mistake this was. 

“Yes you are, Rook. How do you not see it yet?”

Rook scrambles to gather up all of his clothes, whatever he can find. He just has to get out of here and he’ll do it in his underwear if he has to. “You said you were resistant,” he says because that will explain everything and Rook won’t have to want anything more. 

John wasn’t supposed to _offer_ anything more.

“Fuck, shit, I shouldn’t have— I thought—“

“Is that what you think? _Rook_.” John hasn’t gotten up from the bed, he’s just sitting there in a pool of sheets looking the perfect picture of despair and Rook has to fight the gnawing pain that urges him back into bed where he can make it better. “This isn’t some— it’s just me.” 

“Then _just you_ needs to know that I’m not _yours_.” But he could be. 

Fuck, this was a mistake that Rook walked into willingly and knowingly. Everyone knows exactly what kind of man John Seed is and he ignored all of that for some sex and maybe some more sex in the future. That’s all they can have.

“Rook.”

“No, dammit.” He runs a hand through his hair, not sure what he’s supposed to do now. “We don’t— there’s no future here for us. I didn’t… I’m sorry if you thought…” They don’t even like each other. 

They _didn’t_ like each other.

Rook could like John a lot.

“I should go.”

“ _Rook._ ”

Rook isn’t the type to run away from his problems, but he is the type to run away from John Seed. He’s done that a lot and he’s gotten very good at it over the months.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved writing this so much and I'm so glad people enjoy it!!

Jacob finds him about an hour later, with his devil wolf in tow, while Rook hides in his room like a coward. “You fucked up,” he says, not at all like a question. Which is true, but still. 

Fucking rude.

“I did not,” Rook lies because fuck the Seeds and their cult and their fucking wolves. And especially John Seed for planting _ideas_ in his head. About relationships and possibilities and a long future that includes enthusiastic sex. As if they can just have that like normal people. 

“You lying to me?”

“Would it make a difference?”

Jacob sighs, long and drawn out. Just as dramatic as his brothers, whether he realises it or not. “John’s a big boy, he know what he’s doing.” He looks at Rook, considering, the same head tilt mirrored in his dog. “Do you?”

“Nope.” Not a single clue since day one in Hope County. “That should be pretty obvious by now.”

“You know,” Jacob starts, leaning against the doorframe, “I wanted to put you out of our misery the first day you arrived here. Didn’t really see how keeping you around would be good for anyone. Still don’t, if I’m being honest.”

“I’m shocked, Jacob,” Rook says, pressing a hand over his heart in feigned surprise. “But what of all our time spent together? Did it mean nothing to you?”

Jacob’s jaw clenches with a clear indication of how he’d still happily see Rook fed to his wolves. “But you see, _John_ wouldn’t hear of it. He believes you’re special. Not the way Joseph does, of course, and his word is final, but I think John would have gone after you even if Joseph hadn’t been told you were sent to us for a reason.”

“Do you actually believe that I was sent here by God?”

Jacob shrugs. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. My loyalty is to Joseph.”

“You’re a weird scary guy, you know that?”

Jacob grins like Rook has paid him the highest of compliments. “You say the sweetest things.”

“You’re brothers are lucky to have you,” Rook adds, quietly, because he means it. Anyone can see how much they love each other, even if that love manifests in a doomsday cult that’s taken over an entire county in Montana.

Jacob’s eyebrows go pinched and he reaches down to pat at his dog’s head. And if he were anyone else Rook might think he looked _shy_. “No wonder John’s all confused over you,” he says. “You’re unpredictable.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on, I’m gonna teach you how to handle a judge so she won’t accidentally rip your face off.”

“Uh.” Rook had not considered that possibility and now that he has he hates it. “Is that— does that happen a lot?”

“You tell me,” Jacob huffs, turning away to lead his dog down the hall to the ground level floor. 

It does happen a lot _to enemies_. Not their handlers, as far as he knows. “Jacob?” he calls, jumping off the bed and racing after him. “I say something nice and this is what I get? Jacob?” Maybe it’s vanity, but Rook is rather fond of his face right where it is. 

*

In the morning they take two cars across the river and into the Henbane, heading for the prison. Joseph, Faith, and John in one while Rook rides with Jacob and his face eating dog in the other. It’s fucking wonderful and he’s not at all concerned about his life or the lives of the people in the prison. Or even the lives of the Seeds which is a new and confusing feeling he’s still getting used to. 

And he hasn’t spoken a word to John since the day before. 

“What are the odds that this plan works?” he asks the dog because she actually seems to like him a little as opposed to Jacob who sort of… tolerates him? Maybe a grudging sort of acceptance? 

She growls when he tries to scratch her ears.

“If you lose a hand before we get there, I’d say our chances become significantly worse,” Jacob mutters, peering at him through the rearview mirror. 

“Anyone ever tell you that you inspire confidence? Because they were _lying_ ,” Rook hisses.

“Don’t worry,” Jacob says. “If anything happens to you John will burn that prison to the ground and kill everyone inside.”

Rook’s mouth works open and closed a few times, struggling to find the right words. “Now I’m more worried.”

“Yeah.” 

“This is fun for you, isn’t it.”

“Yep.”

Rook sighs as the prison comes into view, looking harmless and boring. Completely at odds with how Rook feels about it. “Glad I could provide some entertainment for you.”

They pull to a stop on the small road leading into the parking lot where exactly none of the Resistance are stationed outside. It’s not a great sign for what’s to come. The atmosphere feels… expectant. Like the prison is just waiting for Rook to return before it comes back to life and eats him. 

“I guess it’s now or never.” He slides the door open and steps out with his new dog companion. 

“Good luck,” Jacob says, handing over a radio for use in an emergency. There’s no guarantee that they won’t be heard if they decide to use it, especially this close to a resistance base, but it’s definitely better than not having it. 

Probably.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t fuck it up.”

“ _Thanks_.” Rook grits and slams the door shut. 

The closer he gets to the prison the more obviously _wrong_ it feels. It’s too quiet. Not like a trap but… Rook can’t shake the feeling that he isn’t going to like what he finds. 

The door into the prison creaks open into an oppressive silence. There’s not a single sound to be heard besides his own footsteps and the dog’s nails clicking on the linoleum. Trash is littered on the ground, partially covering the words spray painted on the ground and the walls and the ceiling. It’s everywhere.

His name.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck he wants to turn right back around, get in the car, and get the hell away from there.

He takes a step forward and hears the first new sound, coming from somewhere deep in the prison. A scream. Shrill and _angry_ and his dog growls, poised and ready for a slaughter. They wait for a heartbeat, and another, and more because Rook’s heart is beating too fast for him to urge himself on, but nothing appears in front of them. It’s just Rook and his dog in an empty hallway.

And the prison is silent again.

“Come on,” he says, voice barely more than a whisper. 

If he didn’t know better, he’d think the prison had been abandoned. There’s not a trace of anyone besides the writing of his name, and most of the furniture has been knocked over and spilled out. 

It’ll be hell to clean up later.

If they have a later. 

When he gets to Dr. Lindsey’s office he finds the door has been locked and the lights are off, but through the small window he can spot movement under a table. “Lindsey?” 

The shadow under the table shifts, crawling out on all fours. “Rook? Is that you?” Lindsey is wearing a gasmask that distorts his face unnaturally in the dark. “You can’t be here, it’s not safe for you.”

“I know, I know, but I need you to come with me.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

Rook sighs. They don’t have time to waste on this. “You have to. It’s your formula, the Bliss neutralizer, the one you gave me? That’s what’s causing this.”

“My… how is that possible?”

“It’s—“ Rook struggles to remember the explanation— “something about how it reacted to the Bliss and to the first batch that I spilled on myself. I don’t really understand it myself, to be honest.”

“That’s…” Lindsey trails off looking over his shoulder. “That must have something to do with the pheromones I used in the test formula… Look, I’m not going to open this door, not even for you, but I’ll give you my notes. They should be more than enough… that’s all I can do for you.”

“Do you have any more of the neutralizer?” Rook presses closer to the window, trying to see what else is in the room. “It could help.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t make any more and I gave you all I had.”

“Okay,” Rook says. This is actually better than he’s hoped for. “Okay, thank you.”

Lindsey slides a stack of papers through the gap under the door. “I hope this helps. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I had no idea it could cause anything like this.”

“You and me both,” Rook says, stepping back as a door to his left slowly creaks open. 

“Rook.” The name is breathed, scratchy and raw. 

Beside him his dog barks a warning. 

Rook got what he wanted, more than that even, and now it’s time to leave. He turns, hurrying back the way he came, with the sound of footsteps right at his heels. 

He doesn’t recognise the man who steps out in front of him, grabbing at his arms, and sinking nails deep into his skin, drawing blood. “You think you get to _leave?_ You think you don’t belong here? You think someone else can have you? You’re not going anywhere.” 

Rook shoves the man off right as his dog tackles the person behind them to the ground and someone else shoots right at where she’d been. “Fuck, come on, girl,” he calls, pushing the door to the courtyard open, then whistling when she doesn’t immediately listen. 

“You have to _stay here_ ,” someone shrieks. “Rook, Rook, come back!”

Two more shots go off that Rook can’t even tell the origin of and when he glances over his shoulder there are _dozens_ of Resistance pouring out through the door. 

_What the fuck._

“We’re coming in hot,” Rook shouts into the radio, hoping someone will open the damn car door for him before he gets there because there is no way he can survive whatever the fuck is going on in the prison. 

They get through the second door where Jacob has the car pulled up close so Rook and the dog can just dive in as more shots go off, aimed right for him.

“Have fun?” Jacob asks, speeding down the road as the other car joins them. 

“I’m keeping your dog,” Rook says to Jacob’s annoying grin.

“She’s a _wolf._ ”

*

They make it back to the ranch unscathed and Rook hands over the notes to Faith who has the best chance of understanding what’s written on them. He’d given a cursory glance over them, but science was never really his thing beyond wanting to know what can explode or be used to make the largest fire. And even that is a more recent development in his life. 

A worrying development that he’s going to need to get a handle on before he ever tries to exist in the real world again. 

“Ah, Rook?” Faith hands him a folded sheet of paper, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “I think this one is for you.” 

It’s a love letter. A _graphic_ and overly detailed love letter from Dr. Charles Lindsey to him that paints a picture of sexual acts that cannot possibly be achievable. Rook doesn’t even understand half of what’s being described on the paper. “I don’t…”

“I don’t think you can do that one,” Faith says, pointing at a line of text. “Physically, I mean. You might die.”

“I wasn't planning to—“

“What’s this,” Jacob asks, joining their little group and plucking the letter from Rook’s hands. “This is what you’re interested in?”

“ _No._ ”

Joseph and John finally join them, looking equally curious at the paper that Rook is desperately trying to rip from Jacob’s hands. 

“Rook got a love letter,” Faith says which is _not helping_.

“It’s certainly a letter,” Jacob mutters.

John’s face becomes flat, blank, as he looks everywhere but at Rook. “I see,” he bites out. “I hope we got more than that.”

Faith hands half of the notes over to Joseph. “These should be all we need,” she says. 

Joseph flips through the pages, scanning the messy scratch of lettering. “There was none of the formula left?” he asks, glancing over to Rook.

“No,” Rook says, “he wouldn’t even open the door for me. I think… I don’t know, he seemed unaffected, but—” he shrugs. “Apparently this was all he had left.”

“Except for the love letter,” John says, voice practically venomous.

Joseph hums. “Thank you, Rook. I believe we’ll have a solution worked out soon.”

“Really? That’s great, I—“ he gets distracted by John walking away, back toward the house. “I’m glad that—“ Rook is going to do something stupid again, he just knows it. “Excuse me, will you?” He catches John right as he enters the house. 

“Hey, I wanted to apologise for my behaviour yesterday.”

“Which part? When you let me fuck you or when—“ John sighs, rubbing at his chest. “You don’t have to apologise, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“No, I shouldn’t have overreacted.” This is one of those rare moments where Rook can see two clear paths laid out in front of him where he has full control over which one he decides to walk down. One is sane and normal and probably the right choice to make, but on the other one he gets to kiss John again. 

He picks the second option. 

John’s lips are so soft and he just lets Rook in. Like he’s just been waiting for him to come back.

“What are you doing?” John murmurs, pulling away only far enough to speak.

Rook chases his mouth for another kiss, sliding his hands around the back of John’s neck to pull him closer. “Trying to apologise,” he says, placing another kiss to his chin, his cheek, whispering against his skin, “trying to show you that I’m sorry.”

“I intend to keep you.”

“I still don’t know what that means,” Rook says, but he’s probably going to be okay with it. His judgment is pretty well compromised at this point, along with his ability to fight the Seeds. He also has at least partial ownership of Jacob’s dog and how could anyone expect him to fight his co-parent? Rook is in way too deep.

He briefly wonders if he should mention any of that to Jacob, but John is _distracting_.

“If you leave again I will carve my name into your flesh so that you never forget where you belong.”

That definitely should not do it for Rook. It’s a crazy, sadistic, possessive thing to say and suddenly Rook is discovering a whole new side to himself. “Okay,” he says, breath shallow as he tries desperately to control the abrupt flare of _want_ in his belly. 

“Move away from the fucking door,” Jacob yells from the other side, snapping the moment in two.

“Get your own house,” John yells back, kicking his heel against the wood for emphasis.

Rook steps away, gesturing toward the stairs. “I’m just going to go wash the blood off my arms,” he says, holding his hands up to show where the man had gouged out some of his skin with his nails. “Maybe get some disinfectant.” 

“If you need anything, let me know.” John looks displeased, but in the most understanding way possible. 

Rook hesitates, almost to the stairs. “You could join me,” he suggests, voice nearly lost under another one of Jacob’s shouts.

John steps away from the door, allowing Jacob to enter, and follows Rook into his room.

*

“Are you going to get scared and run off again?” John asks, holding Rook’s hands above his head, knees planted on the bed bracketing Rook’s thighs as he uses his cock like a toy. “Or do you finally understand where you belong?”

Rook just really wants to touch him and that’s making it difficult to process anything else. “I liked it better when you were sweet.”

“No you didn’t.”

Fuck, he’s right. This version of John feels powerful and _real_ and Rook likes it just as much. Maybe more. “So what happened to your plan to tie me up.”

“We’re not in my bedroom,” John says, snapping his hips down. “Do you think I keep rope in every room in the house just in case?”

Rook opens his mouth to answer, but John squeezes his hands right on the edge of painful.

“If you say yes I’ll leave and you can finish yourself off.”

“I thought you wanted me to say yes?” Rook grins, tilting his head back to give better access for John to bite marks into his throat. If he wasn’t into that kind of thing before he certainly is now. There’s no way he can walk out of this room without everyone knowing exactly what went on and that thought has him pushing up into the soft heat of John’s body, chasing that feeling.

“I want a lot of things from you.” John presses his lips over skin that’s been bitten raw before moving on to the next spot. “What will you give me?” His voice takes on a quality that could almost be _unsure_ if Rook wanted to examine it. Like he doesn’t know where they really stand.

Rook sure as hell doesn’t either.

“Kiss me,” he says, dragging their joined hands down so he can push up with his elbows. 

“That’s not an answer,” John whispers, leaning in so Rook can lick into his mouth, sliding their tongue together and turning the kiss wet and messy. 

It’s the best answer Rook has for now. “I don’t know if I can have this,” he says, honestly. John was never meant to be someone Rook could have. 

John stares down at him, considering, moving his hips in a slow roll that has to be driving him mad the same as it is Rook, even if he won’t show it. “Do you want to know about that file?”

“What?” Rook’s brain has mostly melted into his dick and now John is asking him questions that may as well be riddles for all that he can process basic speech at the moment. “File?”

“In my office.”

“Oh,” Rook says. “Yes?”

John kisses him until Rook’s nearly forgotten the conversation. “We knew the first seal would be opened soon and when you moved here--” he sighs, eyes slipping closed and mouth falling open, rocking back. “Rook,” he says, breath hitching, chasing his pleasure. “We didn’t know it would be _you_ , but it was my job to find out who you are. What kind of-- what kind of person you are.”

“Let me touch you, please, please, I want to--”

“Yes,” John breathes, releasing Rook’s hands and sliding his own down to brace himself on Rook’s chest. “When I saw you I--” 

The noise John makes when Rook touches him is worth _everything_. “When you saw me?” He strokes John’s cock, pressing his thumb in at the head where he drips over his knuckles, and uses his free hand to reach for the place where they’re connected. Fuck, there is so much he wants that he knows John will give him if he just asks for it. 

“When I saw you—“ John sounds _wrecked_. “When I—“ he lifts up and slams back down, taking everything, setting a hard pace that has Rook struggling to keep any air in his lungs.

“John.” Rook’s hips stutter up, spilling inside the greedy heat of John’s body.

John gasps, going still as he comes, painting stripes over Rook’s chest. “When I saw you I knew that you were mine,” he whispers, cheeks flushed, and eyes challenging Rook to disagree.

He doesn’t.

He can’t.

He pulls John in for another kiss and hopes that will be enough.

*

Jacob is downstairs with his dog and some knives that he’s decided to clean in the most menacing way possible when Rook leaves John in bed to get a drink and maybe some snacks. Or maybe he should be grabbing dinner? He’s lost all track of time while John lead him through several more rounds of sex, though still without tying him up. Which Rook is not going to admit to being disappointed about.

“Who’s my good girl?” Rook asks, vigorously petting the dog he now shares with Jacob Seed. “It’s you, yes it is, you’re my good girl.”

She growls at him in a decidedly unfriendly manner.

“We’ll need to work on our dog’s behaviour.”

“Our— she’s a _wolf_.” Jacob grips the hilt of his knife that’s not entirely unlike how their dog bares her teeth. 

“She needs a name.”

“She’s a _judge._ ”

Rook scritches at her ears and this time she lets him, firmly pressing her head into his hands. “What a pretty and vicious baby you are,” he coos. He’s aware that this judge could eviscerate him with little trouble, but Jacob looks so disgruntled when he acts like she’s a pet that it honestly brightens his day more than throwing molotovs at a Peggie. “What about Pumpkin? You wanna be called Pumpkin?”

“No,” Jacob says.

“Cupcake?”

“ _No._ ”

“Okay, well you think of something and get back to me on it,” Rook says, standing up.

“I won’t.” Jacob’s eyes scan his chest and what has to be an obscene amount of marks left by John’s teeth. “How long is this going to continue?”

“The dog co-parenting?”

Jacob carefully sets his knife down on the table like it’s too much of a temptation otherwise. “We are _not_ —“ he sighs barely restrained frustration. “You and John.”

“Oh,” Rook says. This was not where he was expecting the conversation to go, but he really should have. “That depends on who you ask, I guess.”

“I’m asking you,” Jacob says, eyeing the collection of knives again.

Rook bravely does not take a step back, mostly because there’s at least a thirty percent chance the dog will protect him. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.” Also, Rook still isn’t entirely sure himself. John makes it sound like a forever kind of thing, like he’s in it for the long haul, and Rook… really kind of likes that idea, as bad as it is. 

“My baby brother isn’t my business?”

“I thought you trusted his judgment.”

Jacob snorts. “I do, for the most part.”

“But you don’t trust _me_.” That’s fair. Up until now Rook has been almost single-handedly dismantling everything the cult has built while taking a special interest in ruining everything of _John’s_. “I’m not— this isn’t some kind of game.”

“If it is…”

“Yeah.” Rook knows this part. “You’ll kill me or make me run through your murder carnival until someone else does it for you.”

“Nah,” Jacob says, picking his knife back up to continue cleaning it. “But John will.”

Which definitely sounds like something John would do. “I probably could have guessed that.”

“Probably.”

“Well, I should—“ he waves in the direction of the kitchen.

Jacob stares at him with an expression that Rook has not yet learned to read. “Another thing,” he says, voice level, giving nothing away, “Joseph called. They think they’ve found a solution and they’ll have it here in the morning. You’ll be able to leave if that’s what you want.”

A way out. 

An end to this before Rook gets himself in any deeper. 

“Thanks.” He takes a step back, his breath feeling trapped in his lungs. “I’ll… I’ll tell John.” It’s too soon. 

Rook wanted more time to decide.

“Figure it out, Rook,” Jacob says to him as he heads back up the stairs to his room and _John_.

The shower is running when he gets there and he slips in behind John and holds him close. Hasn’t the decision already been made? “Jacob said we’ll have a solution tomorrow.” 

John turns in his arms, pulling him into a kiss. “And afterward you will stay?”

Rook hums, not ready to answer that. “I’m going to cook dinner for us,” he says instead and quiets anymore of John’s questions with more kisses. 

He knows what he wants, but he doesn’t know if he can have it.

*

The next day comes far too soon.

John is a tense line of coiled energy ready to burst at any moment, and Rook isn’t doing any better. If the plan fails then they’ll get more consequence free time together, where it matters less who they are and what side they’re on. But if it succeeds then Rook will have to leave. 

There’s just too much he still has to do.

Too many people counting on him. 

He and John each take a plane and blanket all of Hope County with this new formula. They cover every house, every field, every square fucking inch so that no one and nothing can escape it. Some of it even gets pumped into the bunkers just to be completely sure that everyone gets a dose. 

After that there’s really only one way to be sure it worked. 

Jacob drives in two of the Peggies who apparently got hit the worst out of all their people and plants them directly in front of Rook.

“Um.” One of the Peggies blinks owlishly like he’s spent way too long in a poorly lit bunker underground. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

The other Peggie looks from Rook, to Jacob, and then to Joseph. “Am I… am I supposed to kill him?”

Jacob snorts in a way that could absolutely be taken as a yes by the wrong Peggie. 

Fucking jerk.

Rook puts his hands on one Peggie’s bearded face and forces him to to meet his eyes. “Do you feel anything?”

“Uncomfortable?” The Peggie looks around at all the Seeds. “Please make him stop.”

“It worked,” Faith says. “We did it!”

Which is good. It’s great. It’s exactly what they were all working for these last few days. And although Rook’s heart clenches painfully, and he feels torn open and raw, he knows this is the best possible outcome. There was no telling what would happen to people if they were left any longer without a cure, so this is _good_.

Rook tries very hard not to be sick. 

“I suppose now things can continue on as normal,” Joseph says, glancing at John. 

John looks about as happy as Rook feels. “Yes, Joseph.”

“You will always be welcome here, Rook,” Joseph says with far too much understanding. It’s almost easy to believe that he does have a direct line to God considering how he always seems to know everything. “There will always be a place for you in our family.”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll leave you two,” Joseph says, taking Jacob and Faith and their Peggies away into the house, leaving John and Rook alone. 

“There are thing—“ Rook starts, feeling obligated to explain to explain somehow. That he wants to stay, but that he can’t. That there are too many things that people need him to do because their survival depends on it.

“I know.”

“I have to—“ Rook is the only one who _can._

“I _know._ ”

Rook doesn’t promise that he’ll be back because he doesn’t want to lie. 

So he leaves.

What other choice is there.

*

Rook’s first stop is Fall’s End. It’s awkward and weird and in a lot of ways _bad_. No one blames him, at least they say they don’t, but Rook can see the way they shift and move away from him. Like he’ll bring all those feelings of obsession and lust back if he gets too close. Rook doesn’t try to stop them, or explain his side, because it doesn’t matter. His good intentions can’t negate the consequences of his actions.

Mary May and Pastor Jerome both apologise for their own behaviour, but Rook can’t hold it against either of them. The Bliss, or, well, a chemical compound that reacted poorly _to_ the Bliss can fuck with anyone’s mind. It’s not their fault for anything they said.

It’s Rook’s. 

He wonders if anyone else would have made the same call on the neutralizer if it had been their responsibility instead of his. 

If anyone else could have made that choice.

After that he makes the rounds to all of his friends to check up on them. Some had a better time than others, but most… didn’t. Grace doesn’t yell, but her entire body is a line of tense _disappointment_ , which is so much worse; Nick won’t even look him in the eyes, and Jess won’t talk to him at all besides telling him that she needs time to stop being angry that Rook fucked with her mind.

“That’s Peggie shit, Rook,” she says.

She’s not wrong. 

Adelaide claims she hadn’t noticed anything at all, which Rook actually believes is true, and Hurk just shrugs and tells him weirder shit has happened. Which he also believes is true.

“Full disclosure,” Sharky says, handing him a pilfered beer, “I did jerk off to your wanted poster a bunch of times.”

“That is…” Rook drains about half the bottle trying to decide how he feels about that. “Was it good?”

“I guess,” Sharky says. “But I did get some papercuts in places I don’t want to discuss with you, if you don’t mind.”

Rook drinks the rest of his beer and grabs another one. “That’s fine.”

“You can jerk off to my wanted poster if you want. Just to make it fair and all.”

Rook actually considers it for a moment because that’s about where his life is currently. “No thanks, Sharky. I have enough problems already without adding that to my list of sexual encounters.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Not at all.”

Rook can’t bring himself to go to the prison. He knows he should, he knows he can’t avoid it forever, but he can’t get that image from the last time he was there out of his head. Or that feeling of being watched, like the prison was some living thing. It’s just not something he’s prepared to confront yet, even if he will have to eventually.

Even if no one will understand his choice.

Through it all he just knows that it’s only a matter of time until he’s handed a new responsibility that he’ll have to carry the weight of and the consequences for. There’s always going to be another thing he’ll have to do or choice he’ll have to make because no one else _will_. There won’t be time to heal from this last disaster before he’ll be given a new one.

And none of that is counting the heartache that shatters him with every breath. 

Maybe he’ll get a full day’s reprieve or maybe it’ll be a week, but sooner or later he’s going to do something that will impact everyone else.

Because they’ve all shouldered him with the responsibility to choose.

So what if he makes that choice today?

What if he decides now?

Rook is halfway to the mountains when he makes a sharp u-turn and drives all the way back to the ranch. This might have been the wrong decision before, but so was leaving. So was accepting all of the responsibilities of the Resistance without considering the toll it will eventually take on him. _Is_ taking.

A few of the guards are curious at his return, but none of them try to stop him from going into the house. One of them even waves awkwardly and elbows his friend in the side to stop raising his gun in a threatening manner. So Rook waves back because he likes not getting shot.

“Rook,” John says, pushing back from the table where he and his siblings are in the middle of dinner. “You came back.” 

Rook is almost as surprised as he is by that fact, but honestly they both should have known. “Yeah, I did,” he says, hauling John into a kiss that’s full of all the promises he couldn’t make before. “Of course I did. I had to.” How could he have ever thought he could stay away? “You’re here.” Like there is anywhere else he would rather be.

“You can’t— if you leave again I won’t let you come back. I won’t,” John says, opening his mouth for Rook, making the kiss into something it maybe shouldn’t be in front of his family. “I’m going to carve my name into you, do you understand? You can’t stop me.”

Rook laughs, unable to stop himself. “Is this okay? Is…” He has no idea where they go from here. “Is dating okay? Does the cult allow that?”

John pulls away making a deeply annoyed face that’s ruined just a little by the pink in his cheeks. “It’s not a _cult_ ,” he says, biting new marks into Rook’s neck. The old ones haven’t even faded yet.

“Sure, okay, the… church? Is that—“

“That’s fine.”

“Does _the church_ allow dating?”

“It allows marriage.”

Which is a little fast. It’s a lot like diving into the deep end the same day you learn to swim. But Rook is nothing if not a man about action. Act now, think later if everything goes pear shaped and awful which it might not. It could be great. Rook has fallen so hard for John Seed. Terrible, beautiful, John Seed who is going to carve ownership into his skin and Rook is going to _let him._

“I can work with that,” he says into another kiss, words getting lost somewhere in John’s mouth. “I want to. I want everything.”

“Rook, _Rook_ , that was a joke, I was—“ John’s eyes are bright and searching. “You want to?”

“ _Yes._ ” Whatever lets him keep John, he’ll do it.


End file.
